


Breakfast of (Tag Team) Champions

by Taxman_Apologist (spacelizardtrashboys)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Cooking, Domestic, Fluff, Fluffy bastards, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, New Relationship, money inc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 19:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21081947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacelizardtrashboys/pseuds/Taxman_Apologist
Summary: Inspired by Ted's ring gear featuredhereand some fun discussions withschizoauthoressI decided to make the boys some breakfast. It is unapologetically fluffy, so be forewarned of cute bastard feelings.





	Breakfast of (Tag Team) Champions

Morning light filtered into the bedroom, illuminating the wide back of a man lying in a truly enormous and resplendently furnished bed. A low, contented rumble emitted from the mess of sheets as the man stirred and a set of limbs emerged.

Irwin stretched his large form luxuriously. For all he wasn’t used to this whole…this, he could certainly come to appreciate it. These pillows were a hell of a lot nicer than the ones back home, not to mention the mattress. It was probably the best sleep he had had in a while, even considering the late hour he—or rather, they—had kept last night. Better and better still, there was a beautiful savoury smell in the air, along with the unmistakeable aroma of brewing coffee which served as a siren song to his newly woken and apparently ravenous body.

He went to hook his leg around Ted, but there was no Ted to meet his touch. Irwin lifted himself up on one elbow and, after a moment or two of looking around and getting his bearings, wandered out to find his companion.

As he padded out to the vast main area, he felt oddly self-conscious. He expected to run into one of Ted’s staff, acutely aware that he was wearing boxer briefs, with hair tousled and undershirt askew. What was he even supposed to do if he met one of them? Nod, say good morning, make conversation? Irwin's customary anxiety about social interaction started bubbling up despite his best efforts. _C'mon, it's too early for this shit. Be normal._

But the house seemed empty. Strange. Irwin made his way through the living room and into the kitchen, where, to his surprise and delight, he found Ted busy at the stove, shirtless and humming softly to himself, tanned shoulders flexing as he fiddled with various pans and briefly whisked a bowl of liquid on the countertop. Irwin's own shoulders relaxed as he felt his uncertainties melt away.

Ted’s hair was also unkempt—a truly unusual sight—and he turned to Irwin with eyes full of sleepy charm. Irwin’s own slightly bleary eyes must have been playing tricks, because he could swear that Ted was wearing—what was that?

He thought Ted was wearing no shirt, but he had missed the thin strips of fabric tied around the other man’s neck and waist. Irwin grinned as he took in the sight of Ted in a white apron printed up like a tuxedo shirt. Buttons, bowtie, and all. It was about the Teddest thing he had ever seen. A curious feeling welled up in his chest.

“Looking good, chef.”

He slipped his arm loosely around Ted’s bare shoulders, placing a kiss lightly at the edge of his clavicle, murmuring, “What’re you making?”

Ted’s voice, like Irwin’s, was soft and still a bit husky from sleep. “Classic bacon and eggs, slice of French toast, side of fruit, and maybe a bit of trouble.”

“I’ll have some of that.” Irwin’s arm snaked around Ted’s waist as he nuzzled slow kisses into Ted’s neck. He lifted his head quizzically for a moment. “Where is everyone, anyway?”

“I sent ‘em home. Figured we’d like the house to ourselves.”

Irwin’s reply was to spread his hands wide over Ted’s body, pressing warm circles along the curve of his torso. Ted purred softly before nudging him away with the spatula. “You’re gonna make me burn this bacon, stud.”

“Well let me help then. Give me something to do before I pick you up and carry you back to the room.”

Ted’s heart fluttered with pleasure at the thought. _Give it a minute, Teddy. Feed the guy first._

“Why don’t you get some eggs going then, big man.”

Irwin set about his task as if he had been around the kitchen for years. Ted paused grilling the toast for a moment to watch him work.

Ted had seen the object of his affections lift huge men above his head and toss them like they were nothing. He wasn’t sure what he had expected here, but Ted found himself perplexed and amused at the sight of Irwin gripping an egg delicately between his thick fingers, tapping it with precision against the pan and spreading the shell clean in two with one hand, allowing the plump golden egg to glide smoothly into the sizzling butter.

“You’ve done this before, I see.”

Irwin just smiled to himself and kept cracking. Ted listened to the sound of their breakfast, contemplating his lover’s hands as they went about their work. There was a strange elegance to his movements, so careful and restrained.

“Maybe I should hire you on my kitchen staff,” Ted continued, hoping to wheedle a comment out of his cooking partner.

“You’d be pretty disappointed.”

“Ah, and why’s that?”

“Well, eggs are about the only thing I’m any good at.” Irwin paused to rock the pan with the same dexterity, neatly flipping the eggs over. “I had to cook for myself a lot growing up, but it wasn’t the kind of food you’re used to eating. No fancy stuff, I’m sorry to say.”

Ted nodded, not entirely knowing how to reply. They’d had a few of these awkward moments when it became obvious that they had come from entirely different worlds. He pushed on anyway. “Y’know, I always liked hanging around the kitchen when I was a kid. The, uh, cooks would make me up a grilled cheese sandwich when I got home from school, nothing fancy. I’d eat it right there in the galley and listen to them banter. Damned if they didn’t tell the raunchiest stories,” he chuckled. “But the best part was when they’d let me help out with supper before the folks got home. Just cutting potatoes, shredding greens, keeping the sauce moving. I didn’t have to think about inheriting the family business, prepping for entrance exams, getting on the polo team, any of that.”

Ted paused a moment, then turned to Irwin with more urgency in his voice than he perhaps intended. “Deep down, I’m a man of simple tastes, believe it or not.”

Irwin smiled to himself again and flipped the burner off. “I think we’re ready to roll.”

Ted had plates waiting, and before long they were sitting side-by-side at the kitchen island, eating the products of their shared labours and sliding their hands under the tabletop to rest on each other’s legs. Ted couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten outside the formal dining room. No settings, no staff, nothing but him and this man and their companionable ease. For all he wasn’t used to this whole…this, he could certainly come to appreciate it.

Once they’d cleared up, as Ted reached into the cupboard to put away the last of the dishes, he felt a tickle at the small of his back. The apron fell away from his waist. He had forgotten he was even wearing the damn thing. He turned his head and leaned into the rough texture of Irwin’s unshaven cheek. A sturdy hand stole up to the nape of his neck and tugged at the fastenings there.

The apron slid down Ted’s chest and lay in a heap on the floor as the sound of bare feet receded to the bedroom.

* * *

When Ted’s head chef Laurie found the apron laying across the countertop the next day, she suppressed her irritation. _Mess around in my kitchen, will you. Well… your kitchen I guess._ That irritation was soon quelled as she picked up the apron and underneath found an envelope with the word “Kitchen” written across it. Laurie looked at the cheque inside and whistled; double time for the full day. On the back of the envelope, her employer had scrawled: “In appreciation of your morning off. Same time next week?”

Laurie rubbed her chin and pondered this newfound generosity. A paid day off, once every week. The boss in a great mood. Bonuses for the entire staff. For all she wasn’t used to this whole…this, she could certainly come to appreciate it.


End file.
